Come Back to Me
by bakerswiife
Summary: Peeta Mellark has been in the military for as long as he can remember. But when an accident that costs him his leg sends him home, he doesn't realize how much he's changed. Once he's sent home, new challenges are to be faced. He struggles with PTSD, nightmares, flashbacks, depression and a crumbling marriage, and begins to wonder if he can ever be saved. Modern Day AU
1. Home

**A/N: Big thanks to my Beta, Maleday, for helping me with this story! Make sure to check out her fanfiction, she's a brilliant writer!**

**Happy Reading!**

Tonight won't be an easy night to get through. It's even worse than every other night since Peeta's been gone. There are so many feelings surging through my body, it's too overwhelming. I don't know what I'm feeling; I'm excited, nervous, scared and anxious all at the same time, and it's all because tomorrow I'll be seeing the face of my husband who's been gone on deployment for almost a year now.

I roll over to his side of the bed and see that the clock reads only 2:33 am. I sigh and bring my face to Peeta's pillow. Although very faint, I still pick up the scent of cinnamon and dill, his usual smell from baking all day. I refused to change his pillowcase after he left because even the smell of him made me feel like he was still here somehow. With nothing but bad news for the last few weeks, I've practically washed it with my tears anyway.

I'll never forget the phone call I got telling me that Peeta had been caught in a land mine explosion. I'd held my breath, fearing the worst, until they told me he'd lost the bottom part of his left leg. He'd have to wear a prosthetic for the rest of his life. The panic that I felt in that moment was like no other, my knees buckled beneath me and I fell to the ground in a fit of sobs that shook my body. I knew things like this happened. But the hardest part was not being there to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be alright, or see how the surgery was going and how he'd adjust to his prosthetic.

That moment brought me back to when I was only eleven years old and my father died in a car accident and I'd felt the same way, completely out of control.

I had known that being a military wife in the middle of war would be a challenge; not knowing how he was doing everyday and not being able to see his face all the time like I used to. It's the worst feeling in the world knowing that the person you love the most has their life on the line. Anything horrible could happen at any moment and you never know what's going on. I lived for those 15 minutes when I got to talk to him every few days. I made sure write him letters and he'd write back often. Packages were commonly sent to him too, photos of his family and I so that he'd have something from home to look at once in a while.

Having all these heartbreaking memories enter my mind make tears well up in my eyes and I know I'll need to take some sleeping pills tonight in order to get a full amount of sleep.

Tomorrow definitely isn't going to be easy.

* * *

_8 hours later…_

I'm awoken by the obnoxious beeping of my alarm clock beside me. I groan and press the snooze button before remembering that today is _the day. _The day that Peeta will finally come home.

I take a quick shower and put on Peeta's favourite dress of mine. It's orange, sunset orange to be exact, and it's his favourite colour. I take the pearl necklace he gave me before he left and do it up around my neck. Although I typically leave my hair in a side braid, Peeta loves when I wear it down so I decide to keep it that way.

It's almost twelve in the afternoon when I hear a light knock on my door that can only be Annie Odair. I open the door to see that she's wearing a pretty blue dress that reaches just above her knees. She holds her and Finnick's son, Finn, in her arms and the boy plays with her wavy red hair that falls down beside her face. He's only three years old, but he knows enough about what his father does and why he's gone.

"Hey Katniss, are you excited for today?" Annie asks as she makes her way into the house and shuts the door carefully behind her.

"More than ever," I breathe out, "Good to see Finn's coming along." I smile down at the little boy, now sitting on the ground. Finnick and Peeta both joined the army after high school. It's nice to have good friends like Finnick and Annie who are in the same situation as us. I can always turn to Annie for a shoulder to cry on. Finnick had also lost a limb, just like Peeta. It's a shame he lost his arm because he was such an excellent swimmer.

"We should get going now, shouldn't we?" Annie asks patiently.

I nod. "I just want to make sure everything is organized for when he comes home." I tell her. She gives a weak smile, and slips on her jacket and picks up little Finn from the ground. He's a quiet boy, he doesn't giggle or smile often.

The three of us pile into one car, Finn is sitting in the back and Annie in the passenger seat. We're supposed to drive to a large gym with all the other families who are expecting their husbands or boyfriends or sons to arrive back home.

Annie clutches my hand that's resting on the stick shift of the small car. "I can't believe we get to see them today," she says enthusiastically.

I can only nod because if I start talking about it now, I'll start crying like I usually do when I talk about Peeta.

We finally pull up to the city's main recreation centre. There's barely any parking spots left, so we drive around for a good while until we finally come across one.

Annie carries a poster for Finn that says "Welcome Home Daddy!" and in my hand, I carry a sign saying "Welcome Home Peeta!" in large writing. It's a common thing to do, because the place is so crowded and the soldiers are all dressed the same making it hard to find who you're looking for.

When we enter the room, it's filled almost completely and there are children holding signs, wives and mothers, sisters and all of the veterans family packed into one room to welcome them home. It's overwhelming to see how many people there are in one place.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Annie asks, looking around at all the crowds of people. I can only imagine how emotional it's going to be for all of them when the loved ones arrive. I made sure to bring tissues because there's not a chance that I won't be crying.

Finally, the large screen at the front of the room turns on, you can see the veterans getting off the plane at the airport. They're all in familiar uniforms and many are battered and wounded, but that doesn't matter. I can't spot Peeta because there's so many of them. Tears sting my eyes as I stare longingly at the screen. Annie is at my side and she's teary eyed as well, and of course Finn doesn't have a single clue what's going on.

After the veterans get off the plane and pick up their baggage, they'll be brought over by bus. The room is eerily silent as everyone waits for the bus to arrive.

"What time are they coming at again?" Annie asks.

"Should be a twenty minute bus ride from the airport to here, so they'll be coming shortly." I force a smile. Not shortly enough.

After another ten minutes go by, the large doors on each side of the gym open and the multitude of men start coming into the gym looking for their families. I see a swarm of army green as they eagerly walk towards their families. Some are limping, battered and wounded. They look so different from when I last saw them.

Annie and I both look at each other and raise our posters hoping that Peeta and Finnick will see.

"They should have found us by now." Annie frowns as she looks around on alert, trying to spot them. It's been roughly five minutes since they entered.

Before I can say anything to Annie, I feel a pair of arms snake their way around my waist. The poster drops from my hands and I turn around to see a pair of beautiful blue eyes gazing down at me. They're welled with tears and when I finally break out in a large grin, they're running down his face. I pull his body to me and hug him for as long as I can. His arms are strong and tanned, and make me feel safer than I've ever felt before. I look up to see him again and he's still grinning so I wrap my arms around his neck and force his lips to crash down on mine. His lips are chapped, but they still feel so familiar, I can't let go.

"I missed you so much," I whimper, I reach up to wipe my tears again and he gives a weak smile.

"I missed you too," He says, "You look beautiful." He grins.

I can only blush in response because I'm at a loss for words. His hair is still buzzed short, but his face looks the same: kind and handsome. His structure is more built and strong now, and his skin is tanned with faint bruises and scars, but other than that he's still the Peeta I remember.

Annie finds us and Finn is giggling and smiling as Finnick cradles him with his one arm. It's beautiful to see him smile, because since Finnick left it wasn't common that I'd see Finn in such a joyful mood. Annie pulls Peeta into a long hug, and I do the same with Finnick. It's been a long awaited reunion.

After the ceremony ends, Peeta and Finnick find our car. The drive seems long and awkwardly quiet. Finnick and Annie sit in the back quietly gazing at little Finn who's in complete awe at seeing his father again. Peeta sits silently in the passenger seat while he gazes longingly out the side window. I'm surprised by his quietness, because Peeta is usually so talkative. I decide that it's probably because he's in awe from finally returning home.

Finally, we arrive home after dropping the Odair's off. Peeta's eyes open wide when we pull up to the driveway of our house.

I eagerly step out of the car. Peeta does the same but walks towards the trunk to retrieve his bag. That's when I notice his awful limp. I almost completely forgot about his new leg.

"Peet, let me grab that for you." I say with a forced smile. I take the bag out of his hands.

"I'm fine." He insists and takes the bag back from me.

I frown in confusion because he looks so genuinely upset about this. "But you're leg!" I protest, following him towards the front door.

"I can do it okay?" he grumbles as he starts walking up the front steps.

Alarmed by his uncharacteristic attitude, I try to remember if it is one of the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. After his diagnosis at the hospital on base, I'd done some reading on it. I remember reading that once a soldier comes back from the military, they don't like to be reminded that they've lost a limb, or that they have a disability. They don't like when people offer to do things for them because they just want to feel normal. It seems that even with his prescription medicine, there'll still be signs of PTSD that we'll have to face together.

I decide to change the subject instead. "Look familiar?" I ask.

"Mhmm," Peeta hums as he walks closer to the house, "It doesn't look like anythings changed."

"That's because it hasn't," I chuckle, "I didn't change a thing." I wanted things to be the same when Peeta got back, because the adjustment is hard enough and getting used to new surroundings would only make it harder for him.

I turn the lock and we enter the house. Peeta takes in the sight of our small home and inhales deeply. It's all coming back to him.

"I missed it here." He sighs as he sets down his bag and walks further into the house.

I give him a weak smile, "It's sure been lonely without you."

He turns around and walks towards me again and envelopes me in another hug. "I'm sorry," he whispers. His face is rested on my shoulder and I can feel a tear escape from his eye and hit my skin.

"It's okay, Peeta," I mumble, "You're here now, and that's all that matters to me."

I hear another sniffle and try hard not to break down myself because I know it'll only make him feel worse.

I should have never left," he says.

I shake my head. "You're brave Peeta, it's what you had to do," I tell him. He nods his head and I still hear more sniffles escape from him.

"Hey," I say, "It's okay." His face comes up from my shoulder and I stand on my tiptoes to wipe the tears that are leaving streaks on his smooth face.

He nods his head and I kiss him hard and firm on the lips. They taste like salt since his tears have even managed to reach there, but I don't care. I keep kissing him until he stops crying and he finally says something again.

"Thank you," he says, "but I should be the one comforting you."

I can only give him a sad smile. "It doesn't have to be that way, you deserve comfort too."

I go around with him to look through the rest of the house. He finds his old paint brushes and stares at the old paintings he did. The look on his face makes me smile. He's finally back where he belongs.

When we get to the bedroom the first thing he does is crash down onto the bed. He spreads himself out like a starfish and lies face down. I lay beside him and run my fingers through his short hair. I can only imagine what it feels like to be in a nice king size bed compared to a small and uncomfortable cot.

Peeta calls his family to tell them he's back safe. We'll be visiting them tomorrow. We didn't want to overwhelm him today, even though I'm sure he would have liked to have visited everyone. Uncle Haymitch was supposed to come for dinner, but he was no where near sober enough to even function properly.

I make a warm, home cooked meal of lamb stew which is both of our favourites. He seems to savour every bite he takes and I just stare at him eating it because he looks so pleased.

"This is the best meal I've had in a long time," he sighs.

"I bet," I laugh, "What was the food like there?"

"Horrible," he groans, "The MRE's were all disgusting."

MRE stands for "Meals Ready to Eat." It's food that comes in a package. I can only remember the disgust in Peeta's voice when he'd described his menu over the phone.

"That's probably because you have such high standards." I giggle as I spoon another bite of the hot stew into my mouth.

"True." Peeta laughs.

I try not to ask too much about his leg, because the incident with carrying his bag into the house earlier makes me wonder if he's still sensitive about it and I can only bet that he is. I haven't even seen it yet, but I'll have to at some point.

He tells me he's tired afterwards, and all he wants to do is go to bed. I can't say I'm thrilled that he wants to go to bed so soon. I try not to feel offended and just attribute to his long day, but apart of me can't help but be disappointed at his lack of interest.

I remove the thought from my mind and follow him up to bed and begin to get ready. Just as I finish slipping my pajamas on, I hear sounds of frustration coming from the master bathroom.

"Peeta?" I knock on the door to see if it's okay to enter. I only hear a huff in response.

"Come in," he murmurs. I turn the handle and enter the bathroom where I see him sitting on the edge of the tub in his boxer briefs. It's the first time that I see his prosthetic that goes from his foot to his knee. It looks like a regular foot at the bottom, but as it goes up it looks confusing and uncomfortable. His short hair is mussed like it is when he runs his fingers through it in anger.

"Need help?" I ask him calmly. I don't wait for a response, I crouch down and take off his lower leg prosthetic in one easy try.

"I just hate it," he groans, "I hate that I have to wear this, I hate that I'm not normal anymore I hate that-"

"Shh!" I cut him off and sit down beside him. "Not having your lower leg doesn't make you any different," I tell him, "You're still Peeta and I still love you no matter what. Stop beating yourself up over this, please."I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Fine," he says, "Let's just get to bed." He kisses my cheek delicately before clumsily standing up. I come to his left side and help him walk towards the bedroom.

"Did you take your pills?" I ask. He nods his head as I help him sit down onto the bed. Besides his PTSD related pills, he's been taking anti-depressants since he lost his leg.

I make my way to my side of the bed and slump down on the firm mattress. I roll over to Peeta whose eyes are already starting to close. I move as close to him as I possibly can and he hastily wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. My head rests against his chest where I hear the steady beat of his heart.

"I missed this," he yawns, "you and my lying here."

I move up to kiss his cheek, "Me too." I smile.

"I love you," he says and that's all I catch before I fall fast asleep into what I assume will be a restful night at last. That all changes when I wake up to hear screaming and thrashing.

**A/N:**

**Thank you for reading! This is the start of my new multi-chapter fanfic that I've been planning for a long time. There was a lot of research and planning I had to do to start this story, so I hope I was accurate when describing things about Peeta's time in the military. If I did seem to get things wrong in some parts I apologize, and please let me know so I can fix it!**

**Acknowledgements go to Sprinkleslol441 who has helped me plan and give advice for this story. She has recently started her own everlark fanfiction so make sure to check that out!**

**Another acknowledgement goes to Plumgal1899 who gave me some very smart and helpful advice with this story. She's a brilliant writer so make sure to check her everlark fanfictions out! And last but not least my lovely Beta, Maleday.**


	2. Nightmares

I wake to the sound of screaming.

I knew this would happen eventually, but not the first night he came back. I feel a jolt of panic when I look over to his side of the bed. His eyes are screwed shut, his brow furrowed. His fists ball up the white sheets and even in the dim light I can see his knuckles turning white.

I don't know what to do, whether to wake him or not. I've heard that waking someone who is having a nightmare could be even more frightening to them. I have no idea how to approach him without scaring him. Feeling utterly helpless, I tear up as I stare at his shaking form. I can't stand to see him this way. My gut twists in pain to have to watch him struggle like this.

After contemplating, I decide that it's best to wake him, because if it were the other way around, I know Peeta would do the same for me. I think it's better than living through the nightmare any longer.

"Peeta, it's okay, wake up." I say calmly. I try shaking him awake but he only struggles more and I'm violently pushed off of his body and back where I started. He calls out in his sleep, shouting "Get down!" or "Go!" over and over. Some of it I can't make out, because they're mumbled, or military terms that I don't understand.

"Peeta, it's not real!" I shout. Tears stream down my face and my hands tremble, knowing that he could lash out again at any moment.

"Stop!" Peeta shouts. He groans again with a pained expression plastered on his face. I can hear his heart beating so rapidly; it's pounding harder and harder in his chest with each passing second. His head is hot to the touch and breaking out in a sweat.

I have no idea what to do anymore; I've tried everything I can think of that won't hurt or startle him. I don't want to leave him like this, and I know that I can't. Even though this terror seems much more extreme, it reminds me of when Prim and I were young. She'd have nightmares and the only thing to calm her down was when I sang to her the song that my father had taught us before he died.

I'm not sure if it will work, but it's my only option left. I make sure that I'm close and loud enough so that he can hear clearly. I stroke his head soothingly as I begin to sing:

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow _

_a bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_and when you wake the sun will rise_

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_here the daisies guard you from harm, _

_here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true  
here is the place where I love you._

After I finish the song and I open my eyes, I see that his body has gone still. He's no longer stiff and tense. He's relaxed, which gives me a feeling of relief.

His bright blue eyes open slowly. They stare blankly up at the ceiling.

"Peeta?" I ask. I sit up alert, looking down on his lying form. I remember how hot he is and quickly jump out of bed and into the bathroom to grab him a cold cloth.

"Take this, it'll help." I tell him. I set the cloth on his forehead and begin to wipe the sweat off.

"Katniss, wha- what happened?" he asks. His faced looks shocked, almost all the color drained from it.

"You were having a nightmare," I say quietly, brushing the damp hair off of his wet forehead.

He squeezes his eyes shut and runs his hands across his face before giving a disappointed grunt.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I wish I could control it. I didn't mean to wake you."

Of course, he's apologizing for something out of his control. It almost makes me mad, how well mannered he is.

"It's okay," I smile weakly. "Don't apologize, I'm just glad you're okay now."

He lets out a long sigh; still looking as if he's mad at himself. "I don't even remember what happened, I just remember feeling you and hearing your voice."

"I guess that's a good thing." I tell him. "You seemed so scared, I didn't know what to do," I admit. I snuggle into his side up against the headboard and I feel the much calmer beat of his heart.

"I guess so," he shrugs. "I just wish I could stop them. It'd be so much easier for the both of us."

"I know," I reassure. "But it doesn't work that way, we'll get through it together." I give him a quick peck on his chapped lips.

"Promise?" he asks.

"Promise," I assure him.

We lie there for a while; wrapped in each other's arms. Neither of us sleep. I'm too worried for him.

"Are you going back to sleep?" I question as I snuggle up closer to his warm body.

"No, not after all that. I'm afraid I'll have another one," he whispers.

I frown. "I'll stay awake with you, if you want." It'd make me feel better than leaving him to manage the darkness on his own.

He shakes his head. "No, it's fine. You go to sleep, I know you're tired."

"You sure?"

"Mhmm," he hums, "I'll be fine, get some sleep." He moves the stray hairs away from my face and kisses me on top of my head.

I don't object, my eyes feel rather drowsy and even if I did decide to stay up, I'm sure I'd fall asleep by accident. I make sure that I'm snuggled close to him before closing my eyes. It feels so nice to sleep next to his body like we used to.

My head rests on his chest again. Hearing the steady beat of his heart makes me feel content and assures me he's alright, at least for now.

When I wake up, there's a cool breeze coming through the window. Peeta must have opened them last night because that's the only way he's able to fall asleep; with the windows open.

I lazily turn to Peeta's side of the bed with a groan, only to see he's not there. It makes me think that he didn't actually come back, that I was just dreaming and I'm really waking up alone again like I used to. It's when I hear his noisy footsteps around the house that I remember otherwise.

I grab my green robe and gingerly walk down the stairs and into the kitchen where I see Peeta in front of the stove baking something that smells heavenly, that smell can only be my favourite.

"Cheese buns for breakfast?" I ask with a wide grin before I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.

"Why not?" He asks. "It's your favourite isn't it?"

"Indeed it is."

"Well it's good I haven't lost my memory, too," he jokes. He takes the cheese buns out of the oven and leaves them to cool. I can't remember the last time I had them.

"They look delicious." I grin as I pick one up and set it on the clean white plate that's been set out in front of me.

"They should be, I think I got the recipe right. I haven't baked in so long." He takes a bite out of the cheese bun and closes his eyes as he savours the taste of it. I can't help but do the same. It's the best thing I've eaten in a long time.

"I take it you got your leg on fine this morning?" I ask tentatively.

Peeta nods. "It's getting easier, still a pain though." He sighs.

I give him a sympathetic look. "You'll get used to it," I say as I pick up his mug and plate and carry it towards the sink.

Afterwards, Peeta and I get ready to go meet his family for his welcome back party. I look forward to seeing Rye and Wheaton and and his father, but I'm not too fond of.

I decide not to dress up much; I slip on a plain baby blue top and a pair of dark denim jeans. Simple, but nicer than what I usually wear. I start to do my hair in it's usual side braid before wiping on a shade of light pink lipstick.

Today's one of those days where I actually feel good in the morning, where I can get out of bed normally, and I know it's because of my husband being back.

"C'mon we're going to be late!" Peeta hollers through the house. I quickly set down the lipstick and run towards the door.

"We'll have plenty of time to get there." I huff. I slip on my shoes and jacket and follow him out of the door.

"You excited to see your family again?" I ask.

"Everyone but my mother." He says glumly, climbing into the car and starting the engine. I frown knowingly. His mother is a selfish, controlling woman who's the exact opposite of her loving and understanding husband. It's sad that he's stuck with her because Mr. Mellark deserves so much better, and so do Peeta and his brothers. It's obvious that their personality comes from their father.

"You don't even have to talk to her," I assure him.

The car ride is quite long. Mr. and Mrs. Mellark live in one of the richest neighbourhoods in our city, Pump Hill, which has some of the largest and most beautiful homes in all of Calgary. It's always a treat to visit the Mellark's because of the beautiful area they live in.

We finally pull up to their house after the long drive over. The look on Peeta's face when he sees his old house is nothing but pure joy and excitement.

He intertwines our fingers as we walk towards the house. I can't remember the last time I'd been here since Peeta left. Usually Mr. Mellark and Peeta's brothers came to visit our house instead, because I was often too emotionally drained to leave.

We knock and right away Peeta's dad opens up the large wooden door almost like he'd been standing there waiting forever.

"Peeta, my boy!" Mr. Mellark almost sobs as he opens up his arms nice and wide so he can envelop Peeta in a warm hug. "I'm glad you made it back," he sniffs.

"And Katniss, so nice to see you again. You're looking better than ever." He grins and pulls me into a big hug just like how my father used to hug me.

When we walk into the house, it's filled with cheers and camera's as Peeta and I enter the room. There's a large sign pinned on the wall that reads "Welcome Back Peeta!". The living room is filled with all of Peeta's closest friends and family. I begin to choke up witnessing how many people care for Peeta. It's exactly what he deserves after everything he's been through.

"Thank you everyone!" Peeta says with a wide grin. "It's good to be back." His eyes are filled to the brim with tears of amazement and I can't believe it all myself. I had no idea how many people were really going to be here or how big the celebration would be. It's just as exciting and overwhelming as it was when he first came home yesterday, but even more special because it's with the people he loves most.

Everyone comes up and offers us hugs and words of kindness and congratulating Peeta on his arrival home. I spot Delly Cartwright off in the distance grabbing various desserts off the buffet table that lies in the dining room. Slowly, I lead her direction since she's one of his best friends.

As soon as she sees us, her eyes light up. She sets down her plate and eagerly throws her arms around Peeta.

"You're back!" She squeals in delight and she only hugs him tighter. Usually, it would bother me seeing another woman hugging my husband like this, but with Delly I know it's only friendly.

"I missed you so much, you have no idea," she says in his ear. Her body is still pressed closely to his and I count the seconds until _finally_ he pulls away from her.

"Missed you too, Dells." He gives her quick peck on the cheek. I grind my teeth and roll my eyes. Her and Peeta have been the best of friends since before I got to know them; they'd spend every minute together in High School. They were nearly inseparable. He claims it's just like Gale and I…

Peeta goes around and talks to more of his friends and his brothers who hug him tightly, which is something rarely seen between the three of them. They usually tease and bicker at each other when they're together.

Drifting off, I find Annie and Finnick in a far corner chatting with each other. Finn is just at their feet.

"Haven't seen you in a while," Finnick winks.

"Seems like forever," I tease. "So, how was Finnick's first night home?" I ask in a low voice, leading her away from the crowded room.

"Rough," she sighs, looking down at the hardwood floor, "He didn't seem like himself."

"I get it. Last night was rough for Peeta, too. He had a nightmare, and couldn't get his leg off. He was so upset about it." It really hurt to see him in a way I'd never seen before. Though, it was what I was supposed to expect; I'd been warned about his change in demeanor.

"Sorry to hear," she frowns, "I'm thinking about recommending Finnick to a therapist if it gets worse. I mean, it's only been his first day back, he was probably just overwhelmed, I'm going to have to keep it in mind though."

"Do you mind telling me who you were thinking of recommending to him? I might consider it myself, if it gets any worse," I say.

"Yeah for sure." Annie says, reaching into her purse. "Here's his card, call anytime if you need to. Another military wife recommended him to me, his name is Dr. Aurelius."

"Thanks," I say, taking the card. "I'm going to get back and visit a little more." I sneak back into the crowd of people and find Peeta again. I make sure to slip the card into my pocket before Peeta sees it. It's best it's kept a secret until it really becomes necessary.

I find him right away, but my heart sinks when I see his mother just stalking away from him. Peeta's now slumped posture shows clearly that it hadn't been a pleasant exchange. I quickly approach him before anyone else can claim his attention and clasp his hands encouragingly. When I look up at his face, he's already put a smile on for me.

"Hey you," he kisses me sweetly on the cheek. "Where were you, you disappeared?"

"Just talking to Annie is all." I shrug before giving him a grim look and asking, "How's your mother?" Peeta grimaces, but only shakes his head.

"That bad?" He forces another smile and shrugs a shoulder. Curse that woman for knowing exactly how to hurt her son.

"You ready to go? I'm just about beat." He yawns as he rests his head on top of my head and embraces me from behind. I'm reluctant to leave, knowing it will only let Mrs. Mellark feel as though she won a victory. I'd planned on confronting her, but since Peeta wants to leave, we'll have to leave her with the feeling of satisfaction and defeat.

"How about we say goodbye and then head out?" I suggest. He nods his head and unwraps his arms from around my waist. We say goodbye to everyone, giving many hugs, and receive many words of kindness. I'm somewhat glad it's all over.

We quickly escape from the front entrance and hop into the car. It's nearly nine o'clock when we arrive home, which is early for me but Peeta's been tired and worn out all day from the lack of sleep he got.

When we arrive at the house after a long drive, I find Peeta asleep in the passenger seat. I have to shake him awake in order for him to get up, but I almost hesitate to because he looks so peaceful sleeping there.

"Peet, we're home," I say soothingly, rubbing his arm. He lets out a low groan as he begins to wake up.

I lead him towards the house because he's still half asleep. He's walking slower than ever. When we reach the bedroom, he hastily detaches his leg and is left with a stump. He frowns when he sees it.

"Hey," I say, forcing his chin up to look at me, "Just think of it as a reminder of how hard you fought, not as something to be ashamed of." He nods but still looks defeated. He lies down on his side and pulls the covers up to his chin. He's too tired to even get ready for bed tonight.

I lie next to him and wrap my arms around his torso. "You're not going to tell me what she said?" I ask in a low whisper. He only stiffens, despite my curiosity, I regret bringing it up. "You okay?"

"I don't know," he mutters under his breath. "I'm just upset that I'm not the same person that I used to be, I'm just tired and I just...I don't feel like myself sometimes."

"We'll figure it out, we promised each other we'd get through this_ together_, remember?"

"I remember," he says groggily. "Let's talk about this tomorrow."

He quickly kisses my forehead and then my mouth chastely and turns to his side. It's then I realize that he really is acting different. Maybe it's just tonight, but I miss the nights when we were so passionate and in love. Now it seems like he's letting this horrible tragedy take over his life. I know that if I don't act on this soon, I might not be able to get the old, joyful and loving Peeta and back.


	3. Under the Willow

The second night goes smoother than the night before. Peeta doesn't have any nightmares, but it's me who doesn't get any sleep this time around. I find myself constantly worrying for him. It's scary knowing that my husband could wake screaming in terror at any moment. I refuse to take any sleeping pills because I'm worried that if I do, I'll be too deep in slumber to wake up and help him. I lie awake on our bed, my arms are wrapped around his torso, and my head rests against the strong planes of his back. He used to put his arms around me too, another thing that's changed. He's not as affectionate as he once was. He's trying, I know he is but sometimes it seems like he only does for my sake, and that hurts.

I know that Peeta still loves me, it's evident enough. I know how hard he's struggling with this sudden curveball he's been thrown. I only hope once he gets adjusted to the new life, that we mend our relationship. Realistically, since he's only been back two days and it's started like this, I know it will only get worse before it gets better.

I wake in the morning to find him in the kitchen preparing breakfast just as he usually does since he wakes up much earlier than I do. That's something that hasn't changed.

"Morning," he mumbles from his spot in the kitchen. He's chopping up a variety of vegetables for our omelettes. "How'd you sleep?" He asks. The truth is, awful. I was up most of the night, left with my own negative thoughts.

"It was fine." I say. Although it's a lie, it's better than making him feel worse than he already does about everything. Knowing him, he'd blame himself.

He doesn't say anything after that and the only sound to be heard throughout the house is the sound of the knife slicing through the vegetables and meeting the cutting board. I sit at the kitchen table sipping a mug of hot coffee and watching Peeta cook. I don't bother to help, because we both know that with my kitchen skills, I'd only make things worse.

"God damnit!" He shouts in anger. His sudden outburst startles me, it's not like him to curse either. I immediately get up and rush to his aid. There's blood gushing from his index finger into the eggs. I look from the blood to his face, confused by his lack of response. He just stands there frozen, without any emotion, watching the blood continue to slowly ooze out of his finger as if mesmerized by it.

"Hey, it's okay." I barely whisper. My hand moves on it's own, but I stop it. Unsure of whether to touch him. "Let's clean that up and get a bandage on it right away," I say as calmly as I can. My voice sounds nervous, even to me. It's not a large cut, but it's deep and bleeding all over the place. I run up the stairs towards our bathroom to grab some gauze and polysporin.

I race back down the stairs, but freeze when I enter the kitchen. Peeta's hands grip the kitchen chair like a vice. His eyebrows are furrowed and his face is locked in a painful grimace.

"Peeta?" I ask tentatively. When there's no response, I rush to his side. Blood is dripping onto the wood floor, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Peeta, it's okay. Whatever your feeling or experiencing right now, it's not real." I tell him firmly as I lightly brush my hand up and down his back. "You're okay, you're here now, just breathe." I move the damp blonde locks of his hair from his red forehead.

"You're okay, nothing bad is going to happen to you," I say comfortingly into his ear as I continue to stroke his back. "I'm back home now, real or not real?" He asks, his jaw clenched tight. His voice still trembles with his body.

"Real." I try to force my voice to sound calm, despite the adrenaline. "You're safe Peeta. You're with me now, there's no war."

He seems to struggle with whatever he's thinking about before suddenly releasing his grip on the back of the chair. His face starts to return to it's normal colour again. He stumbles into my arms and lets out a long, shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I'm sorry." "Shh," I say. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

We stand like this for a long while until he stops shaking and he stands tall again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

"The blood, it's just- I just was...brought back to when…" He trails off and fails to finish his sentence. I think I get what he means though. The blood must have reminded him of seeing all the badly battered and wounded soldiers. It could have brought him back to his own injury… I wince and shake my head to rid myself of the image that thought brings. It's no wonder the little things like blood can trigger such a flashback.

I give him a sad smile. "Let's get you bandaged up." I suggest, leading him over to a kitchen chair and gesturing for him to take a seat. He sits patiently as I pull up a chair in front of him and begin to disinfect the wound. His body is tense and he's turned toward the window. Taking the white gauze, I wrap it around his finger, and make sure it stays tight enough with medical tape. If my mother weren't a doctor, I'd probably be clueless.

"You're done, it's all good now," I say with a smile. His eyes move towards his finger and he lets out a deep sigh.

"Thanks," he murmurs. He sits there with a blank look on his face, but I assume he's processing what just occurred.

"Forget about breakfast right now, how about we go for a walk." I offer. He doesn't object but only gives a nod of his head. I tell him I'll be right back and rush upstairs to change out of my pajamas. Quickly, I slip on a pair of gray sweatpants and a hoodie. Grabbing a bag, I fill it with Peeta's sketchbook and pencils. I'm back in the kitchen where Peeta awaits in a matter of seconds, anxious about leaving him alone even that long.

Hopefully getting him out of the house for a breath of fresh air will be good for him. A change of scenery may make it easier for Peeta to let go of whatever memory he had. We gingerly walk out of the door, my fingers are intertwined with his. It's a simple gesture, but it still brings back memories of our walks pre-deployment. We'd walk until finding a spot to sit and he'd sketch while I'd watch his skillful hands work and bring a beautiful scene to life.

"What's in the bag?" he asks. A smirk plays across his delicate features. It thrills me to see an emotion other than fear on his face.

"You'll see." I tell him. We continue to walk hand in hand, the morning air is warm, and the grass is covered in a little layer of dew droplets from last night. He knows where we're going, this is the trail we walked so many times. One of the great things about our neighbourhood is that it's so close to Calgary's provincial park, Fish Creek. The park is mainly in the south end, but is big enough that it reaches to the downtown core. Going here is something we'd do almost every summer weekend, just to enjoy the outdoors and beautiful weather that we hardly get.

We find our favourite tree to sit under, a large willow tree that stands out among the rest due to it's height and draping branches. We nestle under it and I pull out Peeta's sketch pad and set it on his lap. A large grin graces his features as he recognizes it.

"I remember doing this," he says, "I almost forgot about it."

"I figured it'd be a good escape," I tell him, "A change of scenery is good for you."

"We could bring our kids here one day," he suggests as he wraps his free arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to his side.

"Maybe," I say weakly. Having children was never really apart of my plan, and as much as I want Peeta to have children of his own, I can't see how I'd be a suitable mother and with Peeta's condition, he's not fit to be a father right now anyway.

His hand begins to work and at first they're just lines of charcoal, but somehow those charcoal lines will make up something beautiful in the end.

It fascinates me to watch him draw. The way he looks when he sketches is so captivating to me. His pink tongue peeks out the side of his mouth and his eyes are deep in focus, examining the sheet of paper and quickly planning where to plot the next detail of the picture that is slowly coming together.

We don't need to talk, just hearing the nature around us and being next to each other is enough. The morning sky casts an orange glow over Fish Creek making everything look even more glorious. The park is so loved by the city because of it's beauty and the sense of escape you feel once you're walking in it. It's so different from the busy and industrial city.

After a half hour or so, Peeta gently taps my shoulder, bringing me back to reality.

"You ready for the big reveal?" Peeta gleams. I nod my head eagerly and he flips open his sketchbook to the last page he was on. I don't recognize who it is at first, but when I take a closer look, I realize it must be me.

"Is that...is that me?" I ask in disbelief. It's so detailed and the woman he's drawn on the sheet of previously blank paper looks so young and beautiful. The braid he's drawn so intricately is the only way to tell that it's me he intended to depict. Peeta lets out a low chuckle.

"Of course it is. Who else?"

"That's how you see me?" I ask, my eyebrows are raised as high as they go.

"Mhm, except you're much more beautiful in real life." Peeta says sweetly."Why do you find it so hard to believe?"

My eyes still scan over the elaborate sketch, examining each feature one by one and recognizing each as being close to my own. "Because I look, well, I look so beautiful in your drawing but really I'm just-" I'm cut off by his next words.

"Katniss," he sighs, "Stop. You are beautiful." He kisses the top of my head, letting his lips linger there for a while. I hate being mushy, so I choose not to say anything. Instead, I turn to meet his lips. This is what he should really draw: us sitting there under the tree letting our mouths roam over each other's. It feels so impossibly good, I don't want him to stop.

I finally pull away from him and take a breath, and I immediately miss the feeling of his lips.

"Thank you Peeta," I murmur, "You're so talented, you know that right?"

"I do now," He laughs, "I'm glad you like it." We sit there for a good while, admiring the beauty of nature around us. One of the things I love most about Peeta is that he sees the true beauty in things that most people take for granted. His eyes examine the pretty pinks, purples and oranges that dance across the sky. His blue eyes are in a daze as he gazes upwards. I choose to stare at him instead, because seeing the look of pure bliss and happiness upon his face is something I haven't seen too much of recently. I choose to admire it while I can. Already, today feels like Peeta has started to come back and act like his normal self. I know it won't last forever and that it is a treat to do this sort of thing, but it's beautiful nonetheless.

By the time we reach the house, our drunken neighbour Haymitch is sitting cheerily in his front yard with a bottle of white liquor in hand.

"Hey sweetheart, wondered where you two were today." Haymitch slurs as he gets up from the old lawn chair and walks across the street to greet us.

"Almost thought I'd never see you come back!" Haymitch hollers at Peeta before slapping him on the back and pulling him into a sloppy hug.

"Missed you too, Haymitch." Peeta replies. And as crazy as it is, I know he means it. Peeta's always had a soft spot for the man.

"How about you come over for a little and we'll catch up." Haymitch offers before taking another swig of his drink. He looks at me deliberately, as though challenging me to object. I narrow my eyes but stay silent. Haymitch was a war veteran himself, and I definitely don't want my husband to take his route of recovery.

Peeta nods in agreement before waving a quick goodbye to me and following the stumbling alcoholic over to his house. I'm not sure that I want him hanging around Haymitch, but I can at least give him some freedom and space from me. Haymitch might even be able to help.

Haymitch turns and gives me a self-satisfied smirk. "I'll take good care of him, sweetheart." He mocks smugly.

As soon as I enter the kitchen, my eyes meet a bloody mess on the floor. Although I'm not very fond of Peeta hanging around Haymitch, I'm thankful for the chance to clean up because him seeing this could have triggered yet another flashback.

The house is spotless by the time I finish, and Peeta soon arrives, walking through the door and slumping down on the large sofa.

Eventually, I join Peeta in the living room where he rests on the couch watching the rest of the hockey game that I couldn't care any less for.

"Hey," he says lazily as I come and sit down beside him.

"Can I talk to you about something?" I ask.

"Mhm, anything." I'm nervous as to how he'll react when I bring up the idea of therapy, but it's worth a shot. It'll have to be a conversation at some point whether I like it or not.

"You know when I was talking to Annie the other day at the party?" I question. He nods his head.

"Well, she was saying that Finnick is suffering with his PTSD too, and that she was going to take him to a therapist to help him out. I think it'd be a good idea if we maybe took a look into it and tried it out, to help you." I say a little too quickly. I know this will be a touchy subject for him.

"But I am getting better, Katniss." he argues, but even he knows it's not true.

"Peeta it's only been the second day back, and there's been one flashback, and one nightmare. I think you could use some help," I offer "Another military wife suggested him to Annie and apparently he really knows what he's doing."

"I don't know," he mutters, "I'm not sure if I'm ready for all this."

I sigh, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. "I can come in with you, and I'll be there for you every step of the way. You don't have to be in there alone, and I think we could really get things back together if we did this."

"I'll think about it." He groans.

"This will help Peeta, you'll get better, I promise."


End file.
